


Nothing Can Last Forever

by SunriseRose1023



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Character Death, Danger, Gen, Guilt, Kidnapping, M/M, Obsession, Possibly Unrequited Love, Presumed Dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 02:44:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12949584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunriseRose1023/pseuds/SunriseRose1023
Summary: Misha's been stuck in the shadows, loving someone who is already taken. When Misha is pushed to his limit, he does something he's never done before: hire a man to break up a couple, so he can be with the man he loves. However, the plan goes horribly wrong, and Misha is only able to sit back, stunned at the horror he's brought down.However, things are not as they seem.





	Nothing Can Last Forever

Misha stared into the photograph, absently smiling when the dog licked his face. He let out a sigh, picking her up and holding her as he stood to his feet, ignoring her as she licked his face again.

“I’m in a dilemma, Penny.”

The dog, naturally, didn’t answer him. He scratched behind her ear as he walked to the window, taking in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he took in the view.

The city stretched out beneath him, the busy highway fourteen stories below. Horns seemed to honk constantly, sirens sounding at all hours of the day and night. Penny had gotten used to the noise, but Misha never really had.

He glanced back as his phone chirped, and he walked over to the counter, picking it up and unlocking the screen, reading the text message he’d received.

**_“Hey bud. Big party tomorrow at the boathouse. 7:00, beer will be provided. Bring your dancing shoes. :)”_ **

Misha couldn’t help but smile at the message. He ran his thumb over the screen, then tapped out a reply.

**_“Sounds like a plan. Can’t wait.”_ **

Another smiley face was his only reply, and Misha let out a shaky breath. Penny squirmed in his arms and he set her down, watching her prance to her food and water, sniffing the food before lapping up the water. Misha cleared his throat.

“Jensen just texted me. Big party tomorrow at the boathouse. You think I should go?”

Penny looked up from her water bowl, tilting her head at him. Misha nodded.

“I mean, of course I’m going to go. Jensen will be there.”

If dogs could roll their eyes, Penny would certainly be rolling hers. Misha was borderline obsessed with Jensen. Totally and completely head over heels for the guy.

Jensen, however, did not feel the same.

Misha sighed as he scrubbed his hands over his face.

“It’s okay. We know that Jensen is just a friend. He’s with Jared. He loves Jared.”

Misha rolled his eyes, huffing out a breath. He walked a little ways, then whirled on his heels, turning back to face his dog.

“If we could just get him to _see_ me, he’d understand! He’d see that he and I are a much better match than he and Jared are.”

Penny yawned and Misha cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh, sorry. Am I boring you?”

Penny tilted her head and Misha sighed. He lifted his hands to rest them on top of his head, slowly pacing around the room.

“I should just tell him. Right? I mean, what harm can come from that? It’ll be a relief for me, for sure. And maybe … I don’t know, but maybe it’ll make him realize the truth.”

Misha walked back over to the photograph, running a finger over the image of the man who had a hand covering his mouth, the smile evident in his eyes as he stared lovingly at the smiling, shaggy-haired boy beside him. Misha shook his head, letting his gaze move to the boy for a moment.

“Jared’s great. He’s always so nice to me, but … he’s not right for Jensen. He’s just not, and anyone can see that. Me … Jensen and I could be so good together.”

Misha smiled, setting the photograph back in its place on his mantle.

“We’ll just have to make him see that. Come on, Penny. Let’s go outside.”

* * *

 

Matt Cohen hung his head, closing his eyes for just a moment before he lifted his head again and scratched at the stubble on his chin. He rummaged around his desk for a moment before he found his recorder, flipping it on.

“August 14, 2008. I just closed an hour-long session with Misha Collins. Misha is a thirty-year-old single male, with what he describes as ‘an excellent job.’ He will not give more information than that. I know no details regarding this job.”

Matt stopped recording as he pushed his chair back from his desk, standing up and holding the recorder to his lips as he continued to speak.

“Misha has admitted to previously stalking a classmate in high school, a young woman that he refuses to name. He is convinced his behavior was a one-time instance, occurring before he realized he was homosexual. He does feel remorse for his actions, however those actions, he admits, were non-violent. Just, in his words, ‘creepy.’”

Matt stopped recording as he sighed, slowing his pacing until he stopped at the window, using two fingers to peek through the blinds. After a moment, he lifted the recorder again.

“I’m afraid Misha has … for lack of a better term, latched on to another … object for his affection. Jensen Ackles.”

Matt stopped recording, lifting a hand to push through his dark hair, scratching at the stubble on his chin.

“Misha is convinced that he and Jensen are perfectly matched. Jensen is involved in a serious committed relationship, something that I have been working to get Misha to come to grips with. This last session, Misha tried to get me to believe that he’d given up on Jensen.”

Matt sighed, shaking his head as he continued to speak.

“He’s a good actor, and he knows exactly what words to say to be rather convincing.”

Matt bit his lower lip, taking in a breath before he spoke again.

“I don’t believe Misha would cause harm to anyone or to himself. I don’t believe he is a threat that I need to report. I know that he’s trusted me, and it’s my duty to keep his secrets. I just … I’m not sure I’m getting through to him. Hell, I _know_ I’m not. I just don’t know what the best course of action would be.”

Matt turned the recorder off as the phone on the edge of his desk rang. He walked over and picked it up, holding the phone to his ear.

“Cohen.”

A smile came over his face.

“Big Rich. What’s up, my man?”

Matt glanced at his watch.

“Yeah, I can do lunch. Long as it’s not in Paris or on the other side of town.”

Matt laughed, tossing the recorder into one of his desk drawers and grabbing his wallet, slipping it into his back pocket.

“Oh, whatever. You buy this, I’ll bring the beers to poker night, and we’ll call it even. See you in ten.”

* * *

 

Misha stood at his closet, a smile on  his face as he ran a hand down the front of his shirt. How he managed to find one the exact color of Jensen’s eyes … to quote Sinatra, “how lucky could one guy be?” It _had_ to be a sign of his good fortune, and Misha could barely stop smiling.

This was going to be it. Tonight, he’d tell Jensen and he wouldn’t be coming home alone. Well, there was a Penny, but since she was currently sprawled as much as her little body would allow across his pillow…

Misha took in a breath, letting it out slowly, checking his cuff links again. For some reason he couldn’t understand, the song “Tonight” from _West Side Story_ seemed to be playing on a loop through his head. His night would turn out differently than the Sharks and the Jets, more like Tony and Maria. Just … without the tragedy.

He took in another deep breath, slowly exhaling. When he glanced back at the bed, Penny was looking back at him. He smiled, stepping to the bed and bending down, ruffling her ears and kissing the top of her head.

“This is it, Pen. Misha’s gonna get his kicks tonight…”

Penny, as usual, was less than impressed with his singing. She yawned, and Misha laughed as he fluffed his fingers through his hair once more.

“Wish me luck, girl.”

Penny barked, and Misha laughed as he grabbed his coat, tossing it over his arm instead of sliding it over his shoulders.

* * *

 

Misha was frozen in place, unable to move or blink or even make a sound. He stared straight ahead, at the blinding smile on Jensen’s face. _God_ , he was so incredibly handsome.

Jensen wasn’t smiling at him, though. No, Jensen only had eyes for his new fiancé.

Misha felt as though he would throw up, and he slowly closed his eyes. Cheers were still ringing up all around him, and he jumped as yet another bottle of champagne was uncorked. He glanced down at the brown bottle in his hand, and he lifted the beer to his lips, draining it dry. He made his way back to the tub full of ice and beer, grabbing another bottle before taking a second bottle, carrying one in each hand for good measure.

He walked down to the edge of the lake, sitting on the ground as he popped the top on the first bottle, tossing it into the lake as he closed his eyes and took a long drink.

“You look like you could use some company.”

Misha pulled the bottle away, smacking his lips when he did.

“Quite the opposite, actually.”

The blonde made a face, sitting down beside him anyway.

“Ouch.”

Misha narrowed his eyes as he took in the girl beside him.

“Rachel?”

She lifted her eyebrows and he went on.

“Weren’t you a brunette last time I saw you?”

She smiled, reaching up and patting her head.

“Needed a change. I wanted to check and see if blondes really do have more fun.”  
“And?”  
“I’m still trying to figure it out.”

Misha let out a laugh, staring out over the water. Rachel looked down at the bottle in her hands, then sighed.

“I know this sucks for you, and I’m really sorry.”

Misha shook his head, lifting a shoulder.

“I don’t know what you’re—“  
“Don’t. You don’t have to hide with me, Clarence. I’ve told you that.”  
“Why do you call me Clarence?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Because the first time we met was at Jensen’s Christmas party and I’d just sat through _It’s A Wonderful Life_ while I was visiting my grandma at the nursing home. I wasn’t feeling so hot because Gran didn’t even recognize me, and you made me feel better. Like my own little guardian angel. My Clarence.”

Misha rolled his eyes.

“Whatever blows your dress up.”

Rachel laughed, but didn’t say anything else. Misha let out a sigh, then shook his head.

“It just … it sucks, you know? I am so in love with him and he doesn’t even see it. He doesn’t even realize how great we’d be together.”  
“Well I mean, he and Jared are pretty great together.”  
“Yeah, but not like he and I could be.”

Rachel sighed.

“It’s never easy coming into a group that’s already established. It’s definitely not easy when you fall in love with someone who’s _so_ not available. But honey, you … This was inevitable. We’ve been taking bets on who would propose to who when since they were in junior high.”

Misha closed his eyes, and Rachel shrugged her shoulders.

“Some people are just meant to be.”

Misha swallowed at that, because he knew in his heart that he and Jensen _were_ meant to be. He just needed a chance to make Jensen see that.

* * *

 

Misha paced his apartment, ignoring Penny’s watchful gaze. Every time he turned, he’d glance down at the business card in his hand. It was matte black, with only a phone number written in gold across the front. Nothing else was written on the card, but Misha knew he could call the number and ask for Mark.

This was _not_ a good idea.

But he didn’t have another choice.

Misha licked his lips, swallowing hard before picking up his phone and dialing the number. He held his finger over the send icon for a moment, then swallowed before he pressed it. He closed his eyes, and after a few rings, a gruff, British voice came over the line.

_“Talk.”_

Misha blinked.

“Y-yes, my name is Misha Collins.”  
_“Misha? What in the bloody hell kind of a name is Misha?”_  
“Uh … Russian?”  
_“Are you asking or telling me, mate?”_  
“Telling you? Oh, uh, I mean… telling you.”

A gritty chuckle filled the line.

_“Well, what can I do for you,_ Misha?”

Misha licked his lips.

“I need …”

He glanced around, his eyes finally landing on the photograph that sat beside his television. He stared at it for a moment, then spoke.

“I need someone taken out of the picture.”

* * *

 

“You’re sure about this?”

Misha stuck his hand in his pocket, nodding his head. The man standing before him was tall, hair a dishwater blonde that was only getting darker the more they stood out in the rain. Misha had an umbrella and offered to let the man stand under it, but he refused. Misha looked over, his blue eyes meeting those of the man studying him.

“I’m sure. I just need them split up.”  
“So let me get this straight. You hired us to break up a couple of your friends?”

Misha nodded.

“Because you and one of these guys are soul mates?”

Misha nodded again. The blonde man sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“So you don’t want us to hurt them, you just want us to break up their happy-go-lucky bullshit.”  
“Exactly.”  
“And you’re paying for this high-school drama.”

Misha waved a hand.

“Money’s no object.”

The man pursed his lips.

“Well, I’ll hand it to you. I’ve _never_ been hired for something like this.”

Misha nodded.

“That’s what Mark told me.”

The man snorted, shaking his head.

“Well, Mr. Collins, I assure you, the job will be complete within the month.”  
“Thank you. I appreciate this more than you know.”

The blonde man gave a wink that sent shivers down Misha’s spine. He whistled as he walked away, hands in his pockets, head ducked to keep the rain off his face. Misha watched him leave, letting out a shaky breath, gripping tighter to his umbrella.

* * *

 

Three months later, Misha was sitting in his apartment when his cell phone rang. Penny was curled up in his lap, every now and then letting out a snore that would rival a grown man. Misha was careful not to jostle her as he picked up the phone, sliding his finger across the screen and answering the call.

“Hello?”  
_“Have you heard?”_  
“Heard what?”  
 _“Turn on the news. It’s all over every fucking channel.”_

Misha’s eyebrows drew together as he flipped on his television, eyes widening when he saw the fire behind the reporter.

_“We have just received word that a body has been found. The body is unidentifiable, but sources say it very well may be young business mogul Jared Padalecki.”_

Misha couldn’t breathe, couldn’t take his eyes off of the screen before him. Penny woke up and moved off his lap, and Misha slid off his couch to the floor. He shook his head, trying to rid the ringing in his ears, and flipped to the next channel.

_“If you’re just joining us, our ongoing story is the horrific scene unfolding on West Beachside. We warn you, some of the following images may not be suitable for all viewers.”_

Misha wanted to vomit at the sight of the raging fire, consuming what seemed like it was once a vehicle of some sort. He lifted a hand to cover his mouth, tuning back in to hear the reporter’s voice.

_“... car belonging to business mogul Jared Padalecki, who has made headlines recently as one of the wealthiest men under twenty-five. A body has been discovered, but a positive identity has not been made.”_

Misha shook his head, scrambling to sit back on the couch and grabbing his phone. Rachel was still on the line, and he tried to speak, only able to make noises.

_“I know. I can’t … I think I’m in shock. I’ve been trying to call Jensen, but he’s not answering. No one can get … shit. Clarence, I’ve got to take this call.”_

She hung up on him and Misha ran a hand over his mouth. He pushed to his feet, stumbling into the kitchen, yanking open drawers and digging until he found the tiny black card. Shaky hands punched the number into his phone, and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he heard the message.

_“The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service.”_

Misha ran a hand over his mouth, trying the number six more times before he set his phone aside. He leaned over the counter, pushing his hands through his hair. After a moment, he turned and leaned over the sink, throwing up everything in his stomach.

He slid down the wall, sitting on the hard tile floor, staring straight ahead. Penny came and at beside him, licking at his hand. Misha shook his head, staring but not seeing anything.

“I did this. I … I got him killed. I just wanted … and now he’s …”

Misha closed his eyes, tears leaking down his cheeks. He shook his head, looking to Penny, who whined when she saw his face.

“I never wanted this. I never meant for this to happen. And now his blood is on my hands.”

Misha let out a sob, burying his face in his hands as he cried.

* * *

 

The doctor stepped out of the room, taking the gloves from her hands.

“Well?”

She sighed, lifting a hand to tuck the fiery strands behind her ear.

“It’s too soon to tell, really. He’s got a minor burn on his left calf, but that’s all. He’s sure to have a concussion, but none of the facial lacerations needed stitching. I don’t think there are any broken bones either, but then again, I’m limited in equipment here.”

The man nodded, rubbing a hand along his chin. The doctor smiled, kicking out a foot to nudge against his leg. He smiled, meeting her eyes.

“What?”

She gave a quiet laugh.

“I’m just wondering what your end-game is here.”  
“You think I have one?”

She laughed.

“I fucking know you, Mark. I know you do.”

He shrugged his shoulders, a wicked smile on his face.

“I made sure there was no way the body could be identified. They’ll believe it was Padalecki. The explosion was hot enough to do that sort of damage.”  
“They’ll have no reason to believe it wasn’t Padalecki. Because who would be looking for the infamous Mark Sheppard, right? He’s gone under the radar for decades at a time.”

Mark nodded.

“Exactly. And with him out of the picture, you and I can make this business what it should have been from the get-go.”

Mark reached over, taking hold of her face and running his thumbs along her sharp cheekbones.

“You’re gorgeous, Alaina.”

She rolled her eyes, and Mark tightened his hold on her neck just a bit. Her eyes went darker and he smiled.

“I should pay you for your services today, shouldn’t I?”  
“Well, let’s not forget who told you exactly how to make sure Sheppard was good and toast.”

Mark gave a soft chuckle.

“You’re right. I guess we should double up, huh?”

Alaina laughed as she leaned in, eyes drifting closed as Mark kissed her lips. She pulled back from the kiss, glancing over her shoulder.

“He’ll be out for at least a day, if not longer.”  
“Gives us enough time to put as much distance between us and America as we can get. Right now, though …”

Alaina laughed as Mark pulled her closer. She held a hand to his chest.

“Wait. What about Collins? Didn’t he start all this?”

Mark smiled.

“He planted the seed. This was not the plant he was expecting, though. I figure we’ll let him get nice and comfy and … about ten years, we’ll come back and collect whatever we can get from him. Money’s no object to him, remember?”

Alaina smiled, shaking her head.

“I love the way your mind works.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was my entry for the 2017 Supernatural ReverseBang. I got an amazing piece of art by the incredible Loracine, and the art can be found here: 
> 
> https://loracine.livejournal.com/35798.html
> 
> I had a huge, epic-length idea for this story, but I have had the hardest time trying to write here lately. I managed to crank this out, and I suppose I could one day complete that epic-length story, if I ever find my muse again. Thank you to the mods for being so understanding with my technical issues. Hope you guys enjoyed it, and please leave me some feedback!


End file.
